The email variety, of course.
I hate it.
I don't know where some of these folks are finding me.
Some, I know, are filtering newsgroups looking for anything they can turn into an email address.
Some have no doubt phished address books from friends and family.
Some have even got the phone book from local government Exchange servers - I know this just because of the header info in some of what I get - some emails are copied to folks at a totally different government agency.
I finally had to tell my own mail server not to accept anything from Brazil. Even using blacklists and exclusion lists nd several RBL excluders, I still get a ton of crap every day.
Here at work I get at least three messages a day from Russia. Now, this might be interesting, but it comes in in cyrillics, which I can 'read' but no longer possess the vocabulary to actually understand - so it is frustrating, because while I can make out parts, I can make no sense of it. Worse yet, I get it via a blind copy, and don't want to filter the whole nation just to get rid of these annoyances.
I wish I had a simple answer - there are tools (SpamAssasin to name but one) that will trim this stuff back, hide it, or make it Go Away - but there is always the risk it will deep-six something about which I care, so I tend not to use them all that much, and then to go back and verify their choices - and let the Bayesian filters "learn" some more - but it all takes time.
Now, if I was getting Spam from Germany, I'd at least be able to read it - but I haven't hit any German spam lists yet.
I guess it is time to get yet another email address, and use those that I already have for SPAM sinks. AAARRRRRRRGGGG!
Friday, November 14, 2008
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
BMW Drivers redux
With regard to a previously bitched-about driver of a large and expensive BMW, it looks like he's gonna skate, at least as far as the police department is concerned. IID has ruled that it is a civil matter, which means that Internal Investigations has decided it is OK for a cop to park in someone else's parking place and destroy the steering mechanism of a vehicle that is parked there blocking him - in effect that malicious destruction of another's property is only important if the destroyer happens not to be a cop driving a BMW that cost $85,000.
Maybe next time he'll do it to a cop that outranks him - but this civilian isn't interesting enough for the department to want to charge him with anything - although I can call a States' Attorney and have charges pressed - if I want to take a chance on becoming unemployed for my efforts.
Some days just plain suck!
Maybe next time he'll do it to a cop that outranks him - but this civilian isn't interesting enough for the department to want to charge him with anything - although I can call a States' Attorney and have charges pressed - if I want to take a chance on becoming unemployed for my efforts.
Some days just plain suck!
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
Military Service
My kids are too old to be asking me things like "What did you do in the war?" and I was out of the Air Force before any were born, so our discussions of military service have been perhaps less intense than they ought to have been. In addition, I was in the Air Force Security Service, an intelligence organization, and a very tight lid was kept on what was done for many years. Recently it has been (mostly) declassified, and with a reunion several weeks back of Security Service members, I've had cause to reexamine my attitudes about service as well as to look harder at what was done when I was there.
When I was growing up, the draft was still in force. I'm not prepared at this juncture to address the concept of a draft, or of compulsory national service of one sort or another - that'll be topic for a rant one day when I feel like getting beat up.
Two of my kids thought about going into the service - and I encouraged them to do so. Neither did - apparently they thought I was a bit cavalier in my day giving up four years of my life. At the time, it sounded to me like a better deal than spending 18 months face down in the mud, or three years traveling the ocean by rail. Hindsight tells me that my logic at that time was probably flawed, but that the time was (mostly) well spent.
Even without the pressure of the draft, I would do it again, and would hope to make better use of some of the time than I did. I was young then, and have allowed myself to be told that, because I was under 30 the appropriate term for what I was was youngandstupid.
I went into the service in July of 1961 - at the time, Viet Nam wasn't really interesting and the rest of the world was except for cold war stuff reasonably safe and sane. I had wanted to go to Germany ever since my father returned from Berlin at the end of the Berlin Airlift. When I went into the Air Force, it was in my mind that I would go to Aircraft Control & Warning school, et some electronic training, and then go overseas, hopefully to Berlin, at least to Germany. I was pretty naive, I guess, and managed not to hear the recruiter say "We can just about guarantee that for you, but the needs of the Air Force will trump your wishes."
Basic Training in San Antonio in July is pretty awful, particularly for a guy that considered a chess game to be an active sport. Phys Ed didn't kill me, but there were days I wished it would. The heat was appalling, but we slept at night because we were just too damned tired not to. In later years I came to an understanding of just what it was that Basic Training was meant to do, and developed a grudging admiration for how well it worked in a short period of time - but at the time, I didn't like anything about it.
At the midpoint of Basic, some of us were called to the side, congratualted on great test scores, and offered language screening, which would be in air conditioning. We all wanted that, so off we went, and at the end of three days most of us had gone back to the aquadron, but some remained who, according to the Air Force had demonstrated the ability to learn and use a new language. For those that remained, there was Chinese screening. At the end of three days I was among the ones still there, and they started filling classes to go to Yale and learn Mandarin.
They finished those classes before they reached the R-names in the alphabet, the next need was Russian, so in October I found myself on an airplane headed for Syracuse University to learn Russian. The fact that I had failed seriously the previous year to learn German at Penn State convinced me that they were confused, but off I went anyhow, our aircraft landing in a snowstorm.
Not much to say about the school itself save that it was intense - 7 or 8 in a class, one or two native-born instructors - and we had to learn because for some of them English was a foreign language. It was a fair amount of work - and I ought to have applied myself better, but I was only 19 when I got there, and suddenly my parents couldn't see me any more.... More to the point, it was New York, and we could drink!
I got through the course in July of 1962, and headed for San Angelo, Texas for a more ineresting course, got stuck there (another rant) and got to Germany in April of 1963, working as a Voice Intercept Processing Specialist.
I loved the work, loved Germany, and did what I wanted except on duty. Our job was that of listening to radios, and copying what we heard for analysts to wander through and pick out any intelligence that was there to be found. At the time, what we did was a secret, and folks weren't even supposed to know what languages we had learned - ordering a beer in a saloon in something besides German or English could get your butt chewed half off! Even though we worked in a building with no windows right next to a field of antennas the size of a town larger than the one I grew up in, changed shifts every 8 hours, and walked in and out with earphones on our shoulders, what we did was a deep dark secret.
Security Service has been called a tightly knit group of loosely wrapped people, and it was not the real Air Force in many ways. But it was service to the nation, and at the time we learned many things that, without the aid of the loonies in the bunch we might've not known. We made a difference.
I see those four years as part payment for being able to live in this great nation. We had something to do and we did it, and if I may say we did it damned well. We were part of something greater than each one of us, and took pride in what we did.
I think that those years were some of the most important in my life in terms of learning about life, about history, about folks in a foreign nation, about how language impacted thought processes and many more things I cannot recall offhand.
I met many German families - many who had served in the second world war, and learned something about forgetting. I cannot begin to enumerate the many small bits of knowledge I acquired from Germans who talked to me, took me into their homes, helped me with the language, and generally treated me like family.
The Service was a really important part of my life. I am opposed to conscription, but believe that everyone ought to give some time to servinv the nation in one way or another. There was really nothing that i had to do that was more important at that time - and I grew up a lot more than I might have had I not gone into the Air Force.
I would favor service of some sort for everyone - not necessarily military. It really ticks me off to see youngsters laughing at those who make that sacrifice, labeling them as stupid or worse. The Air Force was the first experience I had to tech me what commitment was really all about - going in was the first hard decision I really had to make, and after having made that one, there were many to follow - but I knew I was committed to those four years, that there was no get-out-of-jail-free card to be had, and that I was in control of how bad it would get, or how good it could be.
These days, when I talk to young people, particularly those who are wondering what to do with their lives, I enocourage volunteering for some time in the service. For some, it can be a good career opportunity, for others not - but every peoson who signs up for a set emnlistment will emerge from that period with certain knowledge of at least 200 things that they wise never again to have to do - and this is important knowledge.
What I did was interesting, occasionally exciting, sometime sboring, but something that made a difference. The folks volunteering today will make a difference, and will find their own lives enriched for the experience if that is their expectation. On the other hand, if they figure it'll be stupid and boring, that's what they'll find.
We now have a professional military, rather smaller than before, but with members understanding the meaning oif commitment, and not having been dragged into it.
We owe them thanks and our respect, for they are about the things that have to be done, and have put themselves in harm's way for the rest of us.
Of those with whom I served, at least one is a physician today, several are in international business using their linguistic skills, many more are just folks like me. Most have exceeded expectations of their lives that they might have had before entering the service.
Please do not look down on the military, for it represents the best of us, and will make the sacrifices to which we give only lip service. I am a veteran, and proud of it. If your kids are at loose ends, help them to choose a service and spend some time there. It might turn into a career, it might turn into a couple of years in ugly places - but those kids'll emerge with a sureness of purpose and a knowledge of the world that will exceed your own - and they'll be ready to take life by the tail and swing it around their heads.
When I was growing up, the draft was still in force. I'm not prepared at this juncture to address the concept of a draft, or of compulsory national service of one sort or another - that'll be topic for a rant one day when I feel like getting beat up.
Two of my kids thought about going into the service - and I encouraged them to do so. Neither did - apparently they thought I was a bit cavalier in my day giving up four years of my life. At the time, it sounded to me like a better deal than spending 18 months face down in the mud, or three years traveling the ocean by rail. Hindsight tells me that my logic at that time was probably flawed, but that the time was (mostly) well spent.
Even without the pressure of the draft, I would do it again, and would hope to make better use of some of the time than I did. I was young then, and have allowed myself to be told that, because I was under 30 the appropriate term for what I was was youngandstupid.
I went into the service in July of 1961 - at the time, Viet Nam wasn't really interesting and the rest of the world was except for cold war stuff reasonably safe and sane. I had wanted to go to Germany ever since my father returned from Berlin at the end of the Berlin Airlift. When I went into the Air Force, it was in my mind that I would go to Aircraft Control & Warning school, et some electronic training, and then go overseas, hopefully to Berlin, at least to Germany. I was pretty naive, I guess, and managed not to hear the recruiter say "We can just about guarantee that for you, but the needs of the Air Force will trump your wishes."
Basic Training in San Antonio in July is pretty awful, particularly for a guy that considered a chess game to be an active sport. Phys Ed didn't kill me, but there were days I wished it would. The heat was appalling, but we slept at night because we were just too damned tired not to. In later years I came to an understanding of just what it was that Basic Training was meant to do, and developed a grudging admiration for how well it worked in a short period of time - but at the time, I didn't like anything about it.
At the midpoint of Basic, some of us were called to the side, congratualted on great test scores, and offered language screening, which would be in air conditioning. We all wanted that, so off we went, and at the end of three days most of us had gone back to the aquadron, but some remained who, according to the Air Force had demonstrated the ability to learn and use a new language. For those that remained, there was Chinese screening. At the end of three days I was among the ones still there, and they started filling classes to go to Yale and learn Mandarin.
They finished those classes before they reached the R-names in the alphabet, the next need was Russian, so in October I found myself on an airplane headed for Syracuse University to learn Russian. The fact that I had failed seriously the previous year to learn German at Penn State convinced me that they were confused, but off I went anyhow, our aircraft landing in a snowstorm.
Not much to say about the school itself save that it was intense - 7 or 8 in a class, one or two native-born instructors - and we had to learn because for some of them English was a foreign language. It was a fair amount of work - and I ought to have applied myself better, but I was only 19 when I got there, and suddenly my parents couldn't see me any more.... More to the point, it was New York, and we could drink!
I got through the course in July of 1962, and headed for San Angelo, Texas for a more ineresting course, got stuck there (another rant) and got to Germany in April of 1963, working as a Voice Intercept Processing Specialist.
I loved the work, loved Germany, and did what I wanted except on duty. Our job was that of listening to radios, and copying what we heard for analysts to wander through and pick out any intelligence that was there to be found. At the time, what we did was a secret, and folks weren't even supposed to know what languages we had learned - ordering a beer in a saloon in something besides German or English could get your butt chewed half off! Even though we worked in a building with no windows right next to a field of antennas the size of a town larger than the one I grew up in, changed shifts every 8 hours, and walked in and out with earphones on our shoulders, what we did was a deep dark secret.
Security Service has been called a tightly knit group of loosely wrapped people, and it was not the real Air Force in many ways. But it was service to the nation, and at the time we learned many things that, without the aid of the loonies in the bunch we might've not known. We made a difference.
I see those four years as part payment for being able to live in this great nation. We had something to do and we did it, and if I may say we did it damned well. We were part of something greater than each one of us, and took pride in what we did.
I think that those years were some of the most important in my life in terms of learning about life, about history, about folks in a foreign nation, about how language impacted thought processes and many more things I cannot recall offhand.
I met many German families - many who had served in the second world war, and learned something about forgetting. I cannot begin to enumerate the many small bits of knowledge I acquired from Germans who talked to me, took me into their homes, helped me with the language, and generally treated me like family.
The Service was a really important part of my life. I am opposed to conscription, but believe that everyone ought to give some time to servinv the nation in one way or another. There was really nothing that i had to do that was more important at that time - and I grew up a lot more than I might have had I not gone into the Air Force.
I would favor service of some sort for everyone - not necessarily military. It really ticks me off to see youngsters laughing at those who make that sacrifice, labeling them as stupid or worse. The Air Force was the first experience I had to tech me what commitment was really all about - going in was the first hard decision I really had to make, and after having made that one, there were many to follow - but I knew I was committed to those four years, that there was no get-out-of-jail-free card to be had, and that I was in control of how bad it would get, or how good it could be.
These days, when I talk to young people, particularly those who are wondering what to do with their lives, I enocourage volunteering for some time in the service. For some, it can be a good career opportunity, for others not - but every peoson who signs up for a set emnlistment will emerge from that period with certain knowledge of at least 200 things that they wise never again to have to do - and this is important knowledge.
What I did was interesting, occasionally exciting, sometime sboring, but something that made a difference. The folks volunteering today will make a difference, and will find their own lives enriched for the experience if that is their expectation. On the other hand, if they figure it'll be stupid and boring, that's what they'll find.
We now have a professional military, rather smaller than before, but with members understanding the meaning oif commitment, and not having been dragged into it.
We owe them thanks and our respect, for they are about the things that have to be done, and have put themselves in harm's way for the rest of us.
Of those with whom I served, at least one is a physician today, several are in international business using their linguistic skills, many more are just folks like me. Most have exceeded expectations of their lives that they might have had before entering the service.
Please do not look down on the military, for it represents the best of us, and will make the sacrifices to which we give only lip service. I am a veteran, and proud of it. If your kids are at loose ends, help them to choose a service and spend some time there. It might turn into a career, it might turn into a couple of years in ugly places - but those kids'll emerge with a sureness of purpose and a knowledge of the world that will exceed your own - and they'll be ready to take life by the tail and swing it around their heads.
Monday, November 10, 2008
Motorcycles
I ride motorcycles.
I like motorcycles - riding them is fun, and good for you (as long as you don't fall off or something.)
I think everyone who aspires to drive anything with more than two wheels should start out on a motorcycle or a motor scooter and survive one year on that before being allowed in anything that won't fall over if you don't pay attention.
If my suggestion were followed, we'd scare off (or kill off) a large number of folks who would otherwise have got licenses to drive cars, but who are t0oo stupid or incautious to be trusted with a weapon like an automobile.
A motorcycle will teach you to pay attention. The reward for not paying attention is usually something like road rash, which is painful. Pain hurts. It gets remembered, and when it gets remembered in connection with a particular behavior, the tendency is to avoid repeating that behavior.
Motorcycles will, for the most part, accelerate faster than cars, and stop faster than cars. That combination will keep a rider out of trouble when not used without caution. Like anything else, excess combined with lack of forethought will lead to pain - but it will be an instructive pain.
With today's automobiles, it is quite possible to roll a number of them up into a ball and learn nothing from the experience because of the protection afforded by belts, air bags and crush zones. Sliding down 150 yards of asphalt, on the other hand, will abrade even the strongest pair of jeans and heat one's arse and ever remove a few layers of perfectly good skin. If it has ever happened to you, you will remember it.
Motorcycles are cheap to feed - some to the point of the ridiculous. A small but highway-worthy motorcycle can deliver 60-70 miles per gallon, although it won't deliver the acceleration of a larger motorcycle. Speaking of which, there are some motorcycles that are truly obscenely fast - but like the television or the automobile, there are controls that the user/driver can employ. these insanely fast motorcycles respond quite well to small throttle increments instead of large throttle increments and even deliver good gas mileage in the process.
Contrary to popular belief, properly designed and maintained motorcycles are quite stable at speed because of the gyroscopic action afforded by the wheels. You may remember this phenomenon from your bicycling days. It takes work to make a moving motorcycle fall over - the faster it is moving the harder it is to make fall. Over the years I have fallen many times - but never at speed; always while walking it around a parking lot.
When you ride, you get to relax because it seems as if there is so much more time for everything to take place - and so much more to see, to hear, and to smell. Instead of bting in a glass cage, you're right out there with all the live stuff. Leaves are brighter, birds are more noticeable, and the road is much more interesting in its curves and corners - they intrigue you and you want to pay attention, instead of becoming anesthetized, as is wont to happen in a cage.
Oddly enough, even a heavy motorcycle can be picked up by almost anyone if you know how. If you don't know how, a 350 pound motorcycle is damn near impossible to get up off its side (particularly if the gas tank is laying on one of your knees) - but if you know how, a 66-year-old fat guy with bad knees can pick up a bike weighing nearly 800 pounds. I know that, because mine weighs near 800 pounds, and I resemble that 66-year-old fat guy in two ways - my age and my weight.
Anybody that thinks a motorcycle might be a giggle is urged to find a Motorcycle Safety Foundation course and take it. It won't cost that much, you won't need a motorcycle (they are supplied as part of the course experience) and you won't learn any of my bad habits. The instructors are uniformly excellent, and you'll either enjoy it so much you'll head right out for a motorcycle store (if wifey doesn't veto it - and if she does, send her through the course....) or you'll know you don't want to do that - and you won't be stuck with a motorcycle you really don't want any more and have to sell.
Motorcycling does not discriminate against ages - I know motorcyclists pushing 90 that are still riding. Granted, some have gone to trikes or sidecars because they are concerned about the weight - but they still put themselves out in the air among the birds, leaves, bugs and other critters and grin all the way to wherever they are going.
Motorcycles are safe when properly ridden, cheap to feed, and cause smiles. What more could one ask?
I like motorcycles - riding them is fun, and good for you (as long as you don't fall off or something.)
I think everyone who aspires to drive anything with more than two wheels should start out on a motorcycle or a motor scooter and survive one year on that before being allowed in anything that won't fall over if you don't pay attention.
If my suggestion were followed, we'd scare off (or kill off) a large number of folks who would otherwise have got licenses to drive cars, but who are t0oo stupid or incautious to be trusted with a weapon like an automobile.
A motorcycle will teach you to pay attention. The reward for not paying attention is usually something like road rash, which is painful. Pain hurts. It gets remembered, and when it gets remembered in connection with a particular behavior, the tendency is to avoid repeating that behavior.
Motorcycles will, for the most part, accelerate faster than cars, and stop faster than cars. That combination will keep a rider out of trouble when not used without caution. Like anything else, excess combined with lack of forethought will lead to pain - but it will be an instructive pain.
With today's automobiles, it is quite possible to roll a number of them up into a ball and learn nothing from the experience because of the protection afforded by belts, air bags and crush zones. Sliding down 150 yards of asphalt, on the other hand, will abrade even the strongest pair of jeans and heat one's arse and ever remove a few layers of perfectly good skin. If it has ever happened to you, you will remember it.
Motorcycles are cheap to feed - some to the point of the ridiculous. A small but highway-worthy motorcycle can deliver 60-70 miles per gallon, although it won't deliver the acceleration of a larger motorcycle. Speaking of which, there are some motorcycles that are truly obscenely fast - but like the television or the automobile, there are controls that the user/driver can employ. these insanely fast motorcycles respond quite well to small throttle increments instead of large throttle increments and even deliver good gas mileage in the process.
Contrary to popular belief, properly designed and maintained motorcycles are quite stable at speed because of the gyroscopic action afforded by the wheels. You may remember this phenomenon from your bicycling days. It takes work to make a moving motorcycle fall over - the faster it is moving the harder it is to make fall. Over the years I have fallen many times - but never at speed; always while walking it around a parking lot.
When you ride, you get to relax because it seems as if there is so much more time for everything to take place - and so much more to see, to hear, and to smell. Instead of bting in a glass cage, you're right out there with all the live stuff. Leaves are brighter, birds are more noticeable, and the road is much more interesting in its curves and corners - they intrigue you and you want to pay attention, instead of becoming anesthetized, as is wont to happen in a cage.
Oddly enough, even a heavy motorcycle can be picked up by almost anyone if you know how. If you don't know how, a 350 pound motorcycle is damn near impossible to get up off its side (particularly if the gas tank is laying on one of your knees) - but if you know how, a 66-year-old fat guy with bad knees can pick up a bike weighing nearly 800 pounds. I know that, because mine weighs near 800 pounds, and I resemble that 66-year-old fat guy in two ways - my age and my weight.
Anybody that thinks a motorcycle might be a giggle is urged to find a Motorcycle Safety Foundation course and take it. It won't cost that much, you won't need a motorcycle (they are supplied as part of the course experience) and you won't learn any of my bad habits. The instructors are uniformly excellent, and you'll either enjoy it so much you'll head right out for a motorcycle store (if wifey doesn't veto it - and if she does, send her through the course....) or you'll know you don't want to do that - and you won't be stuck with a motorcycle you really don't want any more and have to sell.
Motorcycling does not discriminate against ages - I know motorcyclists pushing 90 that are still riding. Granted, some have gone to trikes or sidecars because they are concerned about the weight - but they still put themselves out in the air among the birds, leaves, bugs and other critters and grin all the way to wherever they are going.
Motorcycles are safe when properly ridden, cheap to feed, and cause smiles. What more could one ask?
Sunday, November 9, 2008
Sunday, Part Two
It's really time to go to sleep, but Phyllis and I are up watching the PBR finals for the year.
For those of you who don't know what the PBR is, it's the Professional Bull Riders. We've been watching this spectacle or several years and even went to the Baltimore Arena to watch in person when they came to Baltimore.
Frankly, I was surprised that my wife got hooked on this sport - it's dangerous, occasionally bloody, but some of the bull riders are really interesting people - and overall they seem to be good folks. It's an international sport; some of the riders are from Brazil (in fact, Adreano Moraes, the only three-time world champion is from Brazil) and some from as far away as Australia.
But it is world final time, so we will spend tomorrow sleep-deprived.
I did make a leaf run this afternoon of around 70 miles, and saw some colors so brigh that they hurt my eyes. Beautiful day, if a little chilly - time to get the hippo hands out and the crash bar covers to block off the worst of the wind. I have ridden all year round, but as I get older, I need more help to ignore the chill in the winter.
I think I am about to try and buy a sidecar for my Honda. I've never had a sidecar before, but riding in the winter would definitely be easier with the outrigger to keep me vertical....
The new world champ of the PBR is another Brazilian, and tonight the bulls won more than the riders did - but it was fun to watch.
BTW - the winner of the world championship had a one megabuck payday. All he had to do was stay on more bulls than his competitors for 8 seconds a piece. Sounds easy, no?
NO!
Have a good night - Monday is a work day.
For those of you who don't know what the PBR is, it's the Professional Bull Riders. We've been watching this spectacle or several years and even went to the Baltimore Arena to watch in person when they came to Baltimore.
Frankly, I was surprised that my wife got hooked on this sport - it's dangerous, occasionally bloody, but some of the bull riders are really interesting people - and overall they seem to be good folks. It's an international sport; some of the riders are from Brazil (in fact, Adreano Moraes, the only three-time world champion is from Brazil) and some from as far away as Australia.
But it is world final time, so we will spend tomorrow sleep-deprived.
I did make a leaf run this afternoon of around 70 miles, and saw some colors so brigh that they hurt my eyes. Beautiful day, if a little chilly - time to get the hippo hands out and the crash bar covers to block off the worst of the wind. I have ridden all year round, but as I get older, I need more help to ignore the chill in the winter.
I think I am about to try and buy a sidecar for my Honda. I've never had a sidecar before, but riding in the winter would definitely be easier with the outrigger to keep me vertical....
The new world champ of the PBR is another Brazilian, and tonight the bulls won more than the riders did - but it was fun to watch.
BTW - the winner of the world championship had a one megabuck payday. All he had to do was stay on more bulls than his competitors for 8 seconds a piece. Sounds easy, no?
NO!
Have a good night - Monday is a work day.
Sunday, part one
Well, I started out to do a leaf run, which consists mostly of riding a motorcycle where the leaves are colorful and looking at the leaves, interspersed with stopping somewhere for lunch, a drink or something by way of a snack.
Before leaving, I opened up this laptop to look at the mail, and turned on the TeeVee - and discovered that there is a HD channel that devotes Sundays to concerts - and that the one coming next was The Moody Blues at the Greek Theater, one which I had not seen - so the leaf run got delayed in favor of watching a concert by a couple of guys with more grey hair than I have, assisted by several other musicians, playing & singing nostalgia-inducing music from a while back. Some of the memories are sweet, some are poignant - but Justin Hayward and John Lodge still have it.
Of course, if you hate The Moody Blues (or don't know who they are/were) then I guess this will induce a little nausea - but it was worth the detour to watch old pros doing what they do so well.
Before leaving, I opened up this laptop to look at the mail, and turned on the TeeVee - and discovered that there is a HD channel that devotes Sundays to concerts - and that the one coming next was The Moody Blues at the Greek Theater, one which I had not seen - so the leaf run got delayed in favor of watching a concert by a couple of guys with more grey hair than I have, assisted by several other musicians, playing & singing nostalgia-inducing music from a while back. Some of the memories are sweet, some are poignant - but Justin Hayward and John Lodge still have it.
Of course, if you hate The Moody Blues (or don't know who they are/were) then I guess this will induce a little nausea - but it was worth the detour to watch old pros doing what they do so well.
Saturday, November 8, 2008
By way of introduction....
I probably should have written this on the first day but, as often happens, something got me all misdirected and I failed to get it written - so I'll write it today instead.
I was born in 1942, near Baltimore, Maryland. My father worked for Glenn L. Martin, building B-26 aircraft and preparing himself for a life dealing with airborne electronic devices. My mother stayed at home with me and, later on, my two brothers as well. Life was, I guess, good - we lived in a community inhabited largely by folks who worked at Martins, so we all had a lot in common.
When I was 7, my father decided to leave Martin's and went to work for Philco, in the Tech Rep division as (what else) a Tech Rep, working on airborne aircraft radio and radar, and the supporting ground station equipment. One of the parts of being a Tech Rep was overseas work on military bases - and my father ended up being sent to Berlin for the Airlift. He was one of the many who served anonymously, making sure the aircraft flew safely, and the Berliners got fed.
It was no picnic for my mother, at home with a 7-year-old, a 4 year-old and a 2-year-old. Granted, we lived in a very kid-oriented community, and had great neighbors, but I think my mother never quite forgave him for pursuing the bucks in those days. Because of conditions at that time, he was kept busy, and communication was not too regular. However, pictures and stories of Berlin cemented in me a desire to go to Germany some day, which desire I was to fulfill, although perhaps not in the way I might've wished.
When Dad returned, he continued to work at Philco, commuting on weekends home from Philadelphia, an arrangement that suited nobody, so we eventually bought a house in Hatboro, Pennsyvania, where we lived from until the mid 60's (I left in 1961 for the Air Force) by which time everyone was grown and the kids had all left, although it is said that one of my brothers was more pushed than the rest of us. I and my brothers were interesting kids - today we'd've been called ADD or ADHD - back then we were space cadets.
My parents were depression kids, from trades and mercantile families - not a degree anywhere in my ancestry that I can find. I went to college because I was trying to do what lots of people (father, girlfriend) thought I should do - and I was plenty bright, by desparately undirected, undisciplined and unmotivated resulting in Penn State and I parting company after the second semester. I would soon learn that Penn State slept with the draft board, and my leaving signalled a call to that august body the substance of which was "This guy has nothing to do - go get him!" Since I knew that they were coming, I resolved to do something for myself, and started checking the services for deals and promises - and the Air Force had the best offering, although it was four years long. But I had nothing better to do at the time, said girl friend having been smarter than I and dissolved the relationship - and I was sure that four years in the Air Force would be a lot more pleasant than a year and a half face-down in the mud - so in July of 1961, I joined the Air Force. It was the beginning of many very interesting years.
The first thing I learned was that although I had signed up for a technical fied, I had tested too well - so at some point we spent three days doing language screening, an interesting process deserving of an entry of its own. After three days I had not washed out, so I was sent off for Chinese screening, which I survived. I would have gone to Yale to learn Mandarin, but they filled the class before reaching the letter R, so I was schedued to go off to Syracuse University to learn Russian. I had my doubts, but I managed this one, too (possibly because the price of failure was a career change to Air Policeman or Cook), and after an extended delay in San Angelo, Texas, I ended up heading for Darmstadt, Germany in 1963.
In the main, my life from that point consisted mainly of working rotating shifts (4 days, one day off, 4 swings, one day off, four Mids, four days off and then do it some more) and when not at work or asleep, visitin various salo0ns in Darmstadt, learning German and making friends with many of the locals, all the while failing abysmally at my self-set task of draining the place of beer.
Even lousy German beer is so good that you can take a bottle to the swimming pool, open it and drink some, and forget about it for the next two days, then find it, open it and drink the rest and it still tastes good! I know this is hard to believe but I was there.
There were other alcohol-fueled adventures involving wine, strawberry wine,and various fests around the nation. For the most part I motorcycled while in Germany, and saw a good deal of the nation, playing tourist on 4 day breaks - taking in Formula 1 races at the Nurburging, visiting neighborhood places in small towns, and generally bumming around. I picked up local dialect German quickly, and passed for the someone from some small town over the hill, rather than a GI, so my of-duty time was most pleasant. It was so pleasant, as a matter of fact, that I took an overseas discharge and stayed an extra year there. I don't recall exactly why, but it is not unlikely that some German girl had something to do with it. Eventually, however, it was time to come home, dry out, get my life in order and Do Something - so I returned to the US to find that my parents had returned to Baltimore and, needing somewhere to be, I went there with them.
Always a choirboy, I joined the choir at my parents' church, which was where I was to meet Phyllis, who eventually became my wife. When I started back to work, I BS'ed my way into a field engineering job, learned fast, and moved into software in the early 70's never to return to hardware. I've been in IT ever since, and it sure has been interesting.
Along the way, Phyllis and I acquired AA degrees, adopted a couple of kids and then much to everyone's surprise, had one more by the more normal method. She, meanwhile, directs choirs and teaches piano and voice, and I continue to work, moorcycle, and sing in the choir.
Probably enough for now - another time I'll deal with what I actually did those four years in the Air Force for the Air Force itself, and not my own amusement. This has been an overview. If you're still reading, it is time to stop, and thank you for not having been too bored to get to the end
I was born in 1942, near Baltimore, Maryland. My father worked for Glenn L. Martin, building B-26 aircraft and preparing himself for a life dealing with airborne electronic devices. My mother stayed at home with me and, later on, my two brothers as well. Life was, I guess, good - we lived in a community inhabited largely by folks who worked at Martins, so we all had a lot in common.
When I was 7, my father decided to leave Martin's and went to work for Philco, in the Tech Rep division as (what else) a Tech Rep, working on airborne aircraft radio and radar, and the supporting ground station equipment. One of the parts of being a Tech Rep was overseas work on military bases - and my father ended up being sent to Berlin for the Airlift. He was one of the many who served anonymously, making sure the aircraft flew safely, and the Berliners got fed.
It was no picnic for my mother, at home with a 7-year-old, a 4 year-old and a 2-year-old. Granted, we lived in a very kid-oriented community, and had great neighbors, but I think my mother never quite forgave him for pursuing the bucks in those days. Because of conditions at that time, he was kept busy, and communication was not too regular. However, pictures and stories of Berlin cemented in me a desire to go to Germany some day, which desire I was to fulfill, although perhaps not in the way I might've wished.
When Dad returned, he continued to work at Philco, commuting on weekends home from Philadelphia, an arrangement that suited nobody, so we eventually bought a house in Hatboro, Pennsyvania, where we lived from until the mid 60's (I left in 1961 for the Air Force) by which time everyone was grown and the kids had all left, although it is said that one of my brothers was more pushed than the rest of us. I and my brothers were interesting kids - today we'd've been called ADD or ADHD - back then we were space cadets.
My parents were depression kids, from trades and mercantile families - not a degree anywhere in my ancestry that I can find. I went to college because I was trying to do what lots of people (father, girlfriend) thought I should do - and I was plenty bright, by desparately undirected, undisciplined and unmotivated resulting in Penn State and I parting company after the second semester. I would soon learn that Penn State slept with the draft board, and my leaving signalled a call to that august body the substance of which was "This guy has nothing to do - go get him!" Since I knew that they were coming, I resolved to do something for myself, and started checking the services for deals and promises - and the Air Force had the best offering, although it was four years long. But I had nothing better to do at the time, said girl friend having been smarter than I and dissolved the relationship - and I was sure that four years in the Air Force would be a lot more pleasant than a year and a half face-down in the mud - so in July of 1961, I joined the Air Force. It was the beginning of many very interesting years.
The first thing I learned was that although I had signed up for a technical fied, I had tested too well - so at some point we spent three days doing language screening, an interesting process deserving of an entry of its own. After three days I had not washed out, so I was sent off for Chinese screening, which I survived. I would have gone to Yale to learn Mandarin, but they filled the class before reaching the letter R, so I was schedued to go off to Syracuse University to learn Russian. I had my doubts, but I managed this one, too (possibly because the price of failure was a career change to Air Policeman or Cook), and after an extended delay in San Angelo, Texas, I ended up heading for Darmstadt, Germany in 1963.
In the main, my life from that point consisted mainly of working rotating shifts (4 days, one day off, 4 swings, one day off, four Mids, four days off and then do it some more) and when not at work or asleep, visitin various salo0ns in Darmstadt, learning German and making friends with many of the locals, all the while failing abysmally at my self-set task of draining the place of beer.
Even lousy German beer is so good that you can take a bottle to the swimming pool, open it and drink some, and forget about it for the next two days, then find it, open it and drink the rest and it still tastes good! I know this is hard to believe but I was there.
There were other alcohol-fueled adventures involving wine, strawberry wine,and various fests around the nation. For the most part I motorcycled while in Germany, and saw a good deal of the nation, playing tourist on 4 day breaks - taking in Formula 1 races at the Nurburging, visiting neighborhood places in small towns, and generally bumming around. I picked up local dialect German quickly, and passed for the someone from some small town over the hill, rather than a GI, so my of-duty time was most pleasant. It was so pleasant, as a matter of fact, that I took an overseas discharge and stayed an extra year there. I don't recall exactly why, but it is not unlikely that some German girl had something to do with it. Eventually, however, it was time to come home, dry out, get my life in order and Do Something - so I returned to the US to find that my parents had returned to Baltimore and, needing somewhere to be, I went there with them.
Always a choirboy, I joined the choir at my parents' church, which was where I was to meet Phyllis, who eventually became my wife. When I started back to work, I BS'ed my way into a field engineering job, learned fast, and moved into software in the early 70's never to return to hardware. I've been in IT ever since, and it sure has been interesting.
Along the way, Phyllis and I acquired AA degrees, adopted a couple of kids and then much to everyone's surprise, had one more by the more normal method. She, meanwhile, directs choirs and teaches piano and voice, and I continue to work, moorcycle, and sing in the choir.
Probably enough for now - another time I'll deal with what I actually did those four years in the Air Force for the Air Force itself, and not my own amusement. This has been an overview. If you're still reading, it is time to stop, and thank you for not having been too bored to get to the end
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Thursday, all day long
My motorcycle mas been returned! I went up to the shop that has had it and picked it up today, after paying a reasonable ransom for all the work that needed done. Of course, nothing is ever easy around here.
My son took me up - but the slave cylinder for the clutch in his car went to hell yesterday, so we drove my old Volvo up, and he agreed to bring it back, so I left him with my keys, and went in to pay for the motorcycle, then start it up and ride it home. Someone who does not ride cannot imagine just how good it feels to be back up on two wheels again after being confined to a 4-wheeled cage for more than a week. Today was warm, and although rain was threatened it did not arrive, at least not while I was out & about. Riding home was great until I got home and realized that my house keys are colocated with my car keys - and my car keys were in my car. My car was where my son was - and at that point in time I had no clue where he was, but I did beat him home. I folowed a hunch and looked at several of his friends' homes, but did not find him.
This presented a problem, as I had reason to want to get into the house, so I tried to call him and realized that I did not have his new cell number. But fortunately, my wife was at work, so I rode the motorcycle over there and borrowed her house keys - and by the time I got home my son had arrived and I no longer needed the keys. But Phyllis told me not to bring the keys back to her - she'd get them when she returned, so I now have my keys and her house keys and I am inside the house so I don't need either set.
Just as I was relaxing I got a call from the office followed by an email describing something arcane that is happening, so I got out the laptop, logged in and VPN'ed to the office - and could not find anything, so it looks like I'll be stuck observing for some hours yet tonight.
The person for whom I work is one of those folks that likes to write down what we did when something happened so we can do it again. I prefer to try and figure out what the problem really is - sometimes it isn't what it appears to be.
My favorite reason for this is appendicitis.
Consider - you have a bellyache in a certain place, you go to the doctor, and he takes out your appendix. Problem solved.
A year later, you have what feels like the same pain in the same place. Does he re-remove your appendix?
Folks who think like this can be astonishing hard to educate.
With luck, tomorrow will be a great day. Maybe I'll get to ride tomorrow. Meanwhile I get to sit here with two laptops waiting for the phone to ring or for an email to come to give me some more information so I can chase the problem and fix it.
Well, at least I have this nice big HD TeeVee to help keep me bored.
Happy Thursday, everyone!
My son took me up - but the slave cylinder for the clutch in his car went to hell yesterday, so we drove my old Volvo up, and he agreed to bring it back, so I left him with my keys, and went in to pay for the motorcycle, then start it up and ride it home. Someone who does not ride cannot imagine just how good it feels to be back up on two wheels again after being confined to a 4-wheeled cage for more than a week. Today was warm, and although rain was threatened it did not arrive, at least not while I was out & about. Riding home was great until I got home and realized that my house keys are colocated with my car keys - and my car keys were in my car. My car was where my son was - and at that point in time I had no clue where he was, but I did beat him home. I folowed a hunch and looked at several of his friends' homes, but did not find him.
This presented a problem, as I had reason to want to get into the house, so I tried to call him and realized that I did not have his new cell number. But fortunately, my wife was at work, so I rode the motorcycle over there and borrowed her house keys - and by the time I got home my son had arrived and I no longer needed the keys. But Phyllis told me not to bring the keys back to her - she'd get them when she returned, so I now have my keys and her house keys and I am inside the house so I don't need either set.
Just as I was relaxing I got a call from the office followed by an email describing something arcane that is happening, so I got out the laptop, logged in and VPN'ed to the office - and could not find anything, so it looks like I'll be stuck observing for some hours yet tonight.
The person for whom I work is one of those folks that likes to write down what we did when something happened so we can do it again. I prefer to try and figure out what the problem really is - sometimes it isn't what it appears to be.
My favorite reason for this is appendicitis.
Consider - you have a bellyache in a certain place, you go to the doctor, and he takes out your appendix. Problem solved.
A year later, you have what feels like the same pain in the same place. Does he re-remove your appendix?
Folks who think like this can be astonishing hard to educate.
With luck, tomorrow will be a great day. Maybe I'll get to ride tomorrow. Meanwhile I get to sit here with two laptops waiting for the phone to ring or for an email to come to give me some more information so I can chase the problem and fix it.
Well, at least I have this nice big HD TeeVee to help keep me bored.
Happy Thursday, everyone!
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
Choir Rehearsal
It's Wednesday night again - that means choir rehearsal. To say I look forward to it would not always be true, but I'm always glad I went - something about singing is liberating, and reading new music is mental exercise that is enough different from a workday task that it is a pleasure, and a pleasure to rest afterward.
Of course, youngest daughter will be there with my newest grandson, so I'll get a few face minutes with Sammy. The weather has got warm again, so it looks like Indian Summer is in full swing.
Tomorrow morning my son will run me up to Jack's up the road where I'll collect my motorcycle, now completely repaired after a vicious act of destruction that rendered it unusable late last week. I think I'll call Frank and see if he wants to make a leaf run on Friday.
Frank is a musician (I almost said another, but I'm nowhere near in the same class with him) whose music room includes somewhere around 20 guitars and many other instruments. He was my wife's first guitar teacher a good 40 years back, and is in my opinion one of the best guitarists around this area, although he teaches now and no longer plays clubs and such. He also has a nice touch on a keyboard, and is a genious with his midi gear - I have a CD that he made called "Frank's Back Room" that is mostly a bit on the jazz side, and includes full band arrangements, all played by Frank, a track at a time using Cakewalk, his computer, a couple of guitars and a couple of keyboards. Pretty neat stuff - I am so damn envious I could spit!
There is something about music - I have it going all the time, using a headset at work so I don't have to hear crap from everyone now that I no longer have my own office (grumble & bitch here....) Right now it's T-Bone Walker playing "One for the Lonely", live in Paris - and it is all I can do to keep my feet still.
I think we're doing a little free association here tonight.
So I'll shut up, shut down these computers, get the laptop ready to travel and head for home.
Be well, y'all and keep a song in yr heart of hearts.
Of course, youngest daughter will be there with my newest grandson, so I'll get a few face minutes with Sammy. The weather has got warm again, so it looks like Indian Summer is in full swing.
Tomorrow morning my son will run me up to Jack's up the road where I'll collect my motorcycle, now completely repaired after a vicious act of destruction that rendered it unusable late last week. I think I'll call Frank and see if he wants to make a leaf run on Friday.
Frank is a musician (I almost said another, but I'm nowhere near in the same class with him) whose music room includes somewhere around 20 guitars and many other instruments. He was my wife's first guitar teacher a good 40 years back, and is in my opinion one of the best guitarists around this area, although he teaches now and no longer plays clubs and such. He also has a nice touch on a keyboard, and is a genious with his midi gear - I have a CD that he made called "Frank's Back Room" that is mostly a bit on the jazz side, and includes full band arrangements, all played by Frank, a track at a time using Cakewalk, his computer, a couple of guitars and a couple of keyboards. Pretty neat stuff - I am so damn envious I could spit!
There is something about music - I have it going all the time, using a headset at work so I don't have to hear crap from everyone now that I no longer have my own office (grumble & bitch here....) Right now it's T-Bone Walker playing "One for the Lonely", live in Paris - and it is all I can do to keep my feet still.
I think we're doing a little free association here tonight.
So I'll shut up, shut down these computers, get the laptop ready to travel and head for home.
Be well, y'all and keep a song in yr heart of hearts.
Politics, redux
I have just watched President-elect Barack Obama's victory speech.
I was impressed. Even if he was not my candidate, he will be my president, and there's a lot to the man. His speech was temperate, measured, and had something for everyone present.
The next four years will be interesting. It will be a learning experience for all of us - including the president-elect, and I am confident that he retains the ability to learn.
More history has been made today, yet there is much more to be made.
The system does work, and it is still the best system in the world.
I have to go to sleep - tomorrow is a workday - and sleep I shall.
I was impressed. Even if he was not my candidate, he will be my president, and there's a lot to the man. His speech was temperate, measured, and had something for everyone present.
The next four years will be interesting. It will be a learning experience for all of us - including the president-elect, and I am confident that he retains the ability to learn.
More history has been made today, yet there is much more to be made.
The system does work, and it is still the best system in the world.
I have to go to sleep - tomorrow is a workday - and sleep I shall.
Tuesday, November 4, 2008
Political Speeches
One of the best, if not the best I have ever heard is that delivered this evening by John McCain.
Of the important points, one he made that I'll bet gets ignored in the general hooha is that it's time now to get together and work together - and that's how the game should work.
Frankly there was no candidate that would have suited me 100%, the reasons for which statement are not important at this point. We have our work cut out for us, all of us.
I have faith in the nation, faith that the Founding Fathers new what they were about, and while I have my concerns, the election has been conceded, and we all have our work cut out for us - and while I don't expect necessarily to like all that happens in the ensuing four years, there's no point in my trying to make life hard for the folks coming in.
The nation is a lot like a train -You don't steer a train, the most you can do is try to figure out which way it is wants to go and either help all you can, or get off.
For me, to get off the train means leaving the nation and finding another more to my liking ( and having lived in Germany there was a lot there to like) - but this is still the best place in the world, in my opinion - so I am required to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.
Of course, having voted, I retain my bitching rights.
It's done, folks - let's get on with our lives.
Of the important points, one he made that I'll bet gets ignored in the general hooha is that it's time now to get together and work together - and that's how the game should work.
Frankly there was no candidate that would have suited me 100%, the reasons for which statement are not important at this point. We have our work cut out for us, all of us.
I have faith in the nation, faith that the Founding Fathers new what they were about, and while I have my concerns, the election has been conceded, and we all have our work cut out for us - and while I don't expect necessarily to like all that happens in the ensuing four years, there's no point in my trying to make life hard for the folks coming in.
The nation is a lot like a train -You don't steer a train, the most you can do is try to figure out which way it is wants to go and either help all you can, or get off.
For me, to get off the train means leaving the nation and finding another more to my liking ( and having lived in Germany there was a lot there to like) - but this is still the best place in the world, in my opinion - so I am required to be part of the solution, not part of the problem.
Of course, having voted, I retain my bitching rights.
It's done, folks - let's get on with our lives.
Election Day
It is the day when we, the people, get to choose a group of folks who'll choose a new leader for us.
I hope y'all went to your polling places and voted. If you didn't, you really must stay just as silent over the next four years, because by failing to exercise your right you've forfeited bitching rights.
I really don't much care how you voted (as long as it was legally) because all the crap that has flowed the last few weeks about candidates who've allegedly done this'n'that really won't mean much in the coming four years. We'll all get some surprises, some more pleasant than others, and nobody will be more surprised than whoever it is ends up being called President - because that person will discover that nothing works as planned, that absolute power doesn't exist in our little corner of the world, and that maybe he'd've been better off losing.
Many of those of us who did vote will come to realize over the next four years the wisdom of the old Chinese philosopher's saying "Be careful what you wish for, lest it be granted..."
In another four years, we get to do it again - meanwhile, we live with the results of our wisdom because, as much as it irritated everyone who heard it, Dick Cheney had it right - we choose, then we live with the result until we get to choose again, for if we have any faith at all in our own judgment, we'll leave our chosen leaders alone to do what we elected them to do - and if they do it poorly, well, we only have to put up with it for four years, and if they do it well, we can get them to do it again for a while.
The Founding Fathers had more faith in leaders than we today seem to have - they built a system in which leaders are chosen, then left alone to lead for a set period of time. If we have faith in our leaders, we'll answer questions when they ask, and otherwise will trust them to do what is right, knowing that they have more and better resources than we do, believing that we have chosen well, and understanding that there will be times we will not like much of what it is that they do in our name(s) but knowing that they have knowledge that we do not and that it is we who have placed them in positions of power and authority. If they displease enough of us we'll fire them in four years and get someone else who we believe will be better at representing our desires and our best interests.
So if you haven't voted yet, get out there and exercise that right.
But if the result doesn't please you, there's no need to eat your liver over it, because in another four years we get to do it again and maybe in the intervening four years we'll learn a thing or two and make better choices. There's also a chance that the folks we're throwing out at that time have learned a thing or two.
Happy first Tuesday after the first Monday in November!
I hope y'all went to your polling places and voted. If you didn't, you really must stay just as silent over the next four years, because by failing to exercise your right you've forfeited bitching rights.
I really don't much care how you voted (as long as it was legally) because all the crap that has flowed the last few weeks about candidates who've allegedly done this'n'that really won't mean much in the coming four years. We'll all get some surprises, some more pleasant than others, and nobody will be more surprised than whoever it is ends up being called President - because that person will discover that nothing works as planned, that absolute power doesn't exist in our little corner of the world, and that maybe he'd've been better off losing.
Many of those of us who did vote will come to realize over the next four years the wisdom of the old Chinese philosopher's saying "Be careful what you wish for, lest it be granted..."
In another four years, we get to do it again - meanwhile, we live with the results of our wisdom because, as much as it irritated everyone who heard it, Dick Cheney had it right - we choose, then we live with the result until we get to choose again, for if we have any faith at all in our own judgment, we'll leave our chosen leaders alone to do what we elected them to do - and if they do it poorly, well, we only have to put up with it for four years, and if they do it well, we can get them to do it again for a while.
The Founding Fathers had more faith in leaders than we today seem to have - they built a system in which leaders are chosen, then left alone to lead for a set period of time. If we have faith in our leaders, we'll answer questions when they ask, and otherwise will trust them to do what is right, knowing that they have more and better resources than we do, believing that we have chosen well, and understanding that there will be times we will not like much of what it is that they do in our name(s) but knowing that they have knowledge that we do not and that it is we who have placed them in positions of power and authority. If they displease enough of us we'll fire them in four years and get someone else who we believe will be better at representing our desires and our best interests.
So if you haven't voted yet, get out there and exercise that right.
But if the result doesn't please you, there's no need to eat your liver over it, because in another four years we get to do it again and maybe in the intervening four years we'll learn a thing or two and make better choices. There's also a chance that the folks we're throwing out at that time have learned a thing or two.
Happy first Tuesday after the first Monday in November!
Monday, November 3, 2008
Regarding the first post wherein ignorant people are mentioned....
Finally I found out who vandalized my motorcycle. It was the owner of that large white BMW that I had blocked in, having been instructed by Building Security to do so.
I have it on video - bless surveillance cameras.
The guy claimed he could not have hurt anything by doing what he did, then complained at me for leaning my motorcycle on his car, scratching the bumper. Apparently he expected me to offer to soothe his pain before he got stuck with my bill - probably making his high enough that it would be a wash.
I was already not happy, and his attempt to push me made me less happy. He's on medical leave and will be back eventually, at which time we'll talk about it - he thinks. What actually will happen is that my comprehensive claim, having been files, will take care of my motorcycle, and my complaint about malicious destruction of property, complete with video of the destroyer wreaking his destruction will go to Internal Affairs.
I know how his bumper got scratched - in the process of muscling my motorcycle away from his bumper, he scratched it himself. Generally it isn't my style simply to scratch something - had I wanted to make a statement I'd've parked the motorcycle on his hood.
I'm still pretty irritated about it, since right now a lot of my money is going to get things fixed, I spent a day last week just tending to this jerk's messes, and he appears to think that his ownership of an $85,000 automobile, his position as a homicide cop, and his 25 years of longevity with the department give him permission to destroy others' property out of ignorance and try to foist the responsibility off on others. I think that the IID investigation is going to do some damage to his career, but that is no longer his problem - his recalcitrance left me no option but to let the report go and have him charged with a crime.
Damn shame it came to that - but there it is.
Happy Monday - don't forget to vote.
I have it on video - bless surveillance cameras.
The guy claimed he could not have hurt anything by doing what he did, then complained at me for leaning my motorcycle on his car, scratching the bumper. Apparently he expected me to offer to soothe his pain before he got stuck with my bill - probably making his high enough that it would be a wash.
I was already not happy, and his attempt to push me made me less happy. He's on medical leave and will be back eventually, at which time we'll talk about it - he thinks. What actually will happen is that my comprehensive claim, having been files, will take care of my motorcycle, and my complaint about malicious destruction of property, complete with video of the destroyer wreaking his destruction will go to Internal Affairs.
I know how his bumper got scratched - in the process of muscling my motorcycle away from his bumper, he scratched it himself. Generally it isn't my style simply to scratch something - had I wanted to make a statement I'd've parked the motorcycle on his hood.
I'm still pretty irritated about it, since right now a lot of my money is going to get things fixed, I spent a day last week just tending to this jerk's messes, and he appears to think that his ownership of an $85,000 automobile, his position as a homicide cop, and his 25 years of longevity with the department give him permission to destroy others' property out of ignorance and try to foist the responsibility off on others. I think that the IID investigation is going to do some damage to his career, but that is no longer his problem - his recalcitrance left me no option but to let the report go and have him charged with a crime.
Damn shame it came to that - but there it is.
Happy Monday - don't forget to vote.
Elections, Candidates and Voters
I'm not going to try to change anyone's mind here - if you've waited this long to make up your mind who it will be for you, well, there are probably many things you do not understand, and I would prefer not to confuse you.
The level of rhetoric I have seen in this campaign has reached a new low. I don't even care if it is true, the more negative the ads, the more I tend to think "Well, this guy must have something going on or they wouldn't be trying so damned hard to deep-six him." I of course have my reservations about all the candidates - if the world were mine to rule, I wouldn't have anyone in that office that had not at least served a tour in the military - because I don't believe that the culture of the military can be learned by listening to draft-dodging college profs and the like - and the might of the military cannot be effectively wielded by someone who doesn't understand it. Lots of people can explain how a helicopter works (myself among them) but unless you're a suicidal idiot you won't go flying with people like me - because I've never flown one. In a way, it's like sex - reading about it does nothing at all to prepare you for actually doing it.
I think we made a mistake allowing a constitutional amendment that made senators popularly elected - because the Founding Fathers had this pretty unique idea that the states as an entity needed representation within a federal system - and now there's nobody charged with that responsibility, whereas when senators were appointed by state legislatures, they at least knew who they owed. Popular election of both houses is outright silly at best - and it leads to enormous pandering contests to see who can promise to take the most from productive folks to give to someone who (they hope) will vote for them.
I also think that the current rush to kill off the electoral college is a huge mistake - unless all the folks that live anywhere but in the BosWash corridor, Pennsylvania and California are suddenly in love with the idea of letting the inhabitants of the aforementioned relatively trivial part of the USA think for them. Living where I do, I realize that a purely popular vote would assure that no matter what I thought, I'd get overrun by the folks from the Left Coast.
It is also probably prudent to note that it it does come to a purely popular vote, any sort of minority - ethnic, religious, philosophical, political, sexual or whatever should always remember that in a purely popular vote, any minority is at risk of not being heard, and potentially of becoming illegal.
Our politicians are looking to Europe for guidance as to how to do things - failing with boring regularity to note that we have been in a self-governing mode longer than those nations, and they are all bound about proving that socialism works for half of the people all of the time - and in a truly socialist society, there are no options except what the state in its beneficence allows. While we are contrasting the costs of health care in various places we ought to ask about unemployment rates in those places - some folks would have eyebrows go clean off the top of their heads.
I have libertarian leanings, I own guns and motorcycles (not to mention computers, a house and cars) and like the things that I own - and quite frankly believe that until I do something really evil and/or stupid and hurt someone besides myself with those things that I own it's none of anyone's goddamned business what I own, where I put it, who I allow to use it, how much or how many I have, and why I choose to have those things as opposed to other things (like golf clubs, tennis racquets, books or camping gear, just for example.)
I have an aversion to giving the government money that I worked to get only to have the government disperse it to someone more needy, more deserving, or less literate than I am. My church receives what I choose to give away, and the sum is not trivial. Because I am a member of the congregation, I have some (albeit limited) input into the disbursement process.
I hate pushing or saying 1 to have the robot on the phone speak to me in English, and it pisses me off that the only choices I get are English or Spanish - why not German and Russian, Polish, Hebrew, Arabic, or Farsi in addition? Or why not be more truthful and make it English officially. I would not interfere with anyone's wish to speak whatever in their own homes and gathering places - but we are where we are, the only thing approaching a standard language is English, so assimilate, dammit! I lived in Germany for a time, and learned German. Sure it was less than easy, but that was what was spoken there, and I felt it to be less than correct to assume that everyone was going to learn my language. I know it would have put large limitations on my ability to learn to know the inhabitants of Germany. I have never regretted learning German (or Russian, or the short study I undertook of Koinae Greek) and think it is important for us to learn other languages - but it is vital that we do not try to become all other places just so folks can feel at home here - if that mattered, they'd've never left where they were!
I believe that anyone who puts something in front of American with a hyphen between is telling all of us just how important being American is to that person - and the importance of being American is secondary at best. I am an American - not a German-American, just a plain garden-variety American. I owe allegiance to one nation, not to many - and should it become apparent to me that this is no longer a place I can call home, I'll go elsewhere, and assimilate into the culture and population there. Having lived other places, I know I can do it - and having lived other places, I came back here, despite giving thought to staying in Germany for one.
If the desire of the electorate is to overhaul our government, there are going to be a hell of a lot of congresscritters and senators looking for new places to do their whoring because the electorate is going to throw all their arses out and put new ones in there. Sure, the new ones will be inexperienced - but they'll find a way to do what must be done, and in they process they just might find a better way. I wouldn't mind seeing limits on consecutive terms on legislators - they might spend less time with their noses up the public's butt and more time trying to do something historically memorable so that after taking a term off someone might remember their names an think of putting them back to work for a few more terms.
All of the aforestated is my own opinion. Nobody is obligated to agree with me, or to try to convince me otherwise. If I could obligate readers to something, it would be to think about what I have written - nothing more.
I think that's enough of a rant for one day. I don't recall what I started out to do with this space today, but think I got sidetracked somewhere along the line.
Vote on Tuesday. Vote for someone, anyone - but get out there and vote and think about why you are making the choices you are making. Resolve next election to make better choices, or more informed choices.
If you don't vote, meine ansicht nach you forfeit any and all bitching rights.
The level of rhetoric I have seen in this campaign has reached a new low. I don't even care if it is true, the more negative the ads, the more I tend to think "Well, this guy must have something going on or they wouldn't be trying so damned hard to deep-six him." I of course have my reservations about all the candidates - if the world were mine to rule, I wouldn't have anyone in that office that had not at least served a tour in the military - because I don't believe that the culture of the military can be learned by listening to draft-dodging college profs and the like - and the might of the military cannot be effectively wielded by someone who doesn't understand it. Lots of people can explain how a helicopter works (myself among them) but unless you're a suicidal idiot you won't go flying with people like me - because I've never flown one. In a way, it's like sex - reading about it does nothing at all to prepare you for actually doing it.
I think we made a mistake allowing a constitutional amendment that made senators popularly elected - because the Founding Fathers had this pretty unique idea that the states as an entity needed representation within a federal system - and now there's nobody charged with that responsibility, whereas when senators were appointed by state legislatures, they at least knew who they owed. Popular election of both houses is outright silly at best - and it leads to enormous pandering contests to see who can promise to take the most from productive folks to give to someone who (they hope) will vote for them.
I also think that the current rush to kill off the electoral college is a huge mistake - unless all the folks that live anywhere but in the BosWash corridor, Pennsylvania and California are suddenly in love with the idea of letting the inhabitants of the aforementioned relatively trivial part of the USA think for them. Living where I do, I realize that a purely popular vote would assure that no matter what I thought, I'd get overrun by the folks from the Left Coast.
It is also probably prudent to note that it it does come to a purely popular vote, any sort of minority - ethnic, religious, philosophical, political, sexual or whatever should always remember that in a purely popular vote, any minority is at risk of not being heard, and potentially of becoming illegal.
Our politicians are looking to Europe for guidance as to how to do things - failing with boring regularity to note that we have been in a self-governing mode longer than those nations, and they are all bound about proving that socialism works for half of the people all of the time - and in a truly socialist society, there are no options except what the state in its beneficence allows. While we are contrasting the costs of health care in various places we ought to ask about unemployment rates in those places - some folks would have eyebrows go clean off the top of their heads.
I have libertarian leanings, I own guns and motorcycles (not to mention computers, a house and cars) and like the things that I own - and quite frankly believe that until I do something really evil and/or stupid and hurt someone besides myself with those things that I own it's none of anyone's goddamned business what I own, where I put it, who I allow to use it, how much or how many I have, and why I choose to have those things as opposed to other things (like golf clubs, tennis racquets, books or camping gear, just for example.)
I have an aversion to giving the government money that I worked to get only to have the government disperse it to someone more needy, more deserving, or less literate than I am. My church receives what I choose to give away, and the sum is not trivial. Because I am a member of the congregation, I have some (albeit limited) input into the disbursement process.
I hate pushing or saying 1 to have the robot on the phone speak to me in English, and it pisses me off that the only choices I get are English or Spanish - why not German and Russian, Polish, Hebrew, Arabic, or Farsi in addition? Or why not be more truthful and make it English officially. I would not interfere with anyone's wish to speak whatever in their own homes and gathering places - but we are where we are, the only thing approaching a standard language is English, so assimilate, dammit! I lived in Germany for a time, and learned German. Sure it was less than easy, but that was what was spoken there, and I felt it to be less than correct to assume that everyone was going to learn my language. I know it would have put large limitations on my ability to learn to know the inhabitants of Germany. I have never regretted learning German (or Russian, or the short study I undertook of Koinae Greek) and think it is important for us to learn other languages - but it is vital that we do not try to become all other places just so folks can feel at home here - if that mattered, they'd've never left where they were!
I believe that anyone who puts something in front of American with a hyphen between is telling all of us just how important being American is to that person - and the importance of being American is secondary at best. I am an American - not a German-American, just a plain garden-variety American. I owe allegiance to one nation, not to many - and should it become apparent to me that this is no longer a place I can call home, I'll go elsewhere, and assimilate into the culture and population there. Having lived other places, I know I can do it - and having lived other places, I came back here, despite giving thought to staying in Germany for one.
If the desire of the electorate is to overhaul our government, there are going to be a hell of a lot of congresscritters and senators looking for new places to do their whoring because the electorate is going to throw all their arses out and put new ones in there. Sure, the new ones will be inexperienced - but they'll find a way to do what must be done, and in they process they just might find a better way. I wouldn't mind seeing limits on consecutive terms on legislators - they might spend less time with their noses up the public's butt and more time trying to do something historically memorable so that after taking a term off someone might remember their names an think of putting them back to work for a few more terms.
All of the aforestated is my own opinion. Nobody is obligated to agree with me, or to try to convince me otherwise. If I could obligate readers to something, it would be to think about what I have written - nothing more.
I think that's enough of a rant for one day. I don't recall what I started out to do with this space today, but think I got sidetracked somewhere along the line.
Vote on Tuesday. Vote for someone, anyone - but get out there and vote and think about why you are making the choices you are making. Resolve next election to make better choices, or more informed choices.
If you don't vote, meine ansicht nach you forfeit any and all bitching rights.
Sunday, November 2, 2008
Time Changes
I wonder what the justification for Daylight Savings Time is nowadays? This year in particular caused all manner of perturbations among those of us that live in a world that has 24-hour days.
I did everything I thought I needed to do before 1 AM this morning and then called Operations where I work and gave the on-duty operator instructions to go through a short process that would get all the mainframe computer clocks where they needed to be.
About an hour later the phone rang - the process did not work as I had planned, so I had to get clothes on, start my car and go downtown and put in an appearance. When I got there, I found two problems, one of which was mine, so I fixed mine and after a few false starts (three to be precise) everything came back up and I headed for home, arriving around 4 AM.
Of course I had to get up within 5 hours to get to church (married to a choir director....) so I am a bit fuzzy around the edges right now. But it would be les problematic if we could make these clock changes during the day - and even less likely to be problematic to go to DST one year and just leave it there.
Anyone out there with me - just leave it all at DST??
I did everything I thought I needed to do before 1 AM this morning and then called Operations where I work and gave the on-duty operator instructions to go through a short process that would get all the mainframe computer clocks where they needed to be.
About an hour later the phone rang - the process did not work as I had planned, so I had to get clothes on, start my car and go downtown and put in an appearance. When I got there, I found two problems, one of which was mine, so I fixed mine and after a few false starts (three to be precise) everything came back up and I headed for home, arriving around 4 AM.
Of course I had to get up within 5 hours to get to church (married to a choir director....) so I am a bit fuzzy around the edges right now. But it would be les problematic if we could make these clock changes during the day - and even less likely to be problematic to go to DST one year and just leave it there.
Anyone out there with me - just leave it all at DST??
Saturday, November 1, 2008
Thoughts on Halloween
Well, Halloween has come and gone again.
We did not get pranked or egged - for which we are thankful.
Nobody messed with my motorcycles - also good.
We went through what seems like a year's supply of chocolate of various sorts, dispensed to kids varying from barely walking through what looked like early twenties, although my kids informed me that most of those, at least the girls, were only 12-15 or so.... I guess my age is showing some, but when I was 12 or 15 they never looked that good.
There were some really freaky costumes, too - more folks are growing their own than in previous years. But there were no cowboys, no cowgirls - lots of power rangers and what I guess were characters out of some anime TV show. There was one particularly good bad biker - but that kid's dad is biker, so I guess it was proper and natural.
There were a coupe of ids that arrived with "Trick or Treat - or else" and they waited until last to get rewarded. Lots of smaller kids in the company of parents - I was glad to see that, as there have been years when some kids have come unescorted who, at least in my opinion should not have been out unescorted.
But the kids were cute, mostly polite, and there are still goodies left over for this old fat guy to nosh on . Life is good.
We did not get pranked or egged - for which we are thankful.
Nobody messed with my motorcycles - also good.
We went through what seems like a year's supply of chocolate of various sorts, dispensed to kids varying from barely walking through what looked like early twenties, although my kids informed me that most of those, at least the girls, were only 12-15 or so.... I guess my age is showing some, but when I was 12 or 15 they never looked that good.
There were some really freaky costumes, too - more folks are growing their own than in previous years. But there were no cowboys, no cowgirls - lots of power rangers and what I guess were characters out of some anime TV show. There was one particularly good bad biker - but that kid's dad is biker, so I guess it was proper and natural.
There were a coupe of ids that arrived with "Trick or Treat - or else" and they waited until last to get rewarded. Lots of smaller kids in the company of parents - I was glad to see that, as there have been years when some kids have come unescorted who, at least in my opinion should not have been out unescorted.
But the kids were cute, mostly polite, and there are still goodies left over for this old fat guy to nosh on . Life is good.
Friday, October 31, 2008
Commuting Traffic
Like many others, I commute to work. I have dreamed of the day that my commute would consist of walking down the stairs to my basement and going into a corner especially built for me, where computers, phone, darkness and music are in abundance - but it hasn't happened yet, and at the current rate it might happen just in time for my 104th birthday - so I'm not holding my breath.
Baltimore is reputed to be a tough commute, and it can get pretty ugly in the morning. I call ugly a morning when my 22-miles-of-freeway plus four traffic lights turns into an hour on my motorcycle or in my car. This morning was one of those mornings.
I've been driving for almost 50 years now, and have driven in Germany when there were no speed limits and survived, so I must've done something right. I have come to a few conclusions about just why traffic gets so sucky sometimes.
Particuklarly obnoxious folks drive jacked up pickups and expensive SUV's - they get right up close and personal, never even thinking of the danger in which they place me by being so close. I guess someone who has fewer than four wheels is classed as vermin by such drivers. I can always pour on the throttle and make some space since motorcycles do that better than most cars - but in traffix there's often no place to go. Sometimes I can pour on the power and the loud pipes will make them slow down, but not often - most folks are so insulated in their cage vehicles that they couldn't hear a freight train if it fell on them.
Courtesy is cheap, and simply by being courteous, ugly situations do not have the opportunity to form - and letting just one person in can change the whole day for that person. I wish that were better understood. Working for a police department, I see lots of accidents and reports thereof, and you'd be really surprised just how many accidents could have been caused not to happen with a little courtesy on someone's part - along with, of course, some awareness of what one is doing and where one is doing whatever it is.
I am occasionally tempted to carry a bag of large marbles to loft into the air when a following vehicle gets so close to my moorcycle that I feel endangered. Up to this point I haven't done this, but it gets more tempting every day. Even in the car I get tempted by this thought - particularly when the only thing I can see in any of my mirrors is a jacked up Dodge Ram pickup that looks like it is eating my trunk.
I wonder if I carried a bag of paintballs.... No, they probably need more force to burst than I could supply simply by throwwing one up into the air. Maybe a weed sprayer full of yellow paint? No, I don't think so - too hard on the environment.
I had a stock exhaust on my motorcycle for a while - I paid a bunch of money to buy it after buying the bike with Vance & Hines pipes on it. When I put the stock pipes on, it got quiet - and people stopped seeing me. I put the loud pipes back on and get menaced a whole lot less every day. I also have a nice lout air horn - when I blow it, folks pay attention, and by the time they fitgure out it is a biker and not a trucker, I am gone from that area.
I ride because I like to ride. My motorcycles use less gas than my cars (by half or more) and I know some guys that tell their wives that they want a motorcycle to save money, but I'm here to tell you that's crap. Riders have motorcycles because they want motorcycles - saving gas is a nice byproduct, but not the real reason to have one. If you don't ride, or if your only riding experience is as a fearful passenger being scared by some yahoo more interested in your fright than his safety, you are missing something - it is peaceful out there in no hurry wandering the counryside. Many of my favorite rides would average 40 mph or less - and I seem to see so much more than when in a car. I hear things I might not otherwise hear, smell new smells all the time, and see colors much brighter than when ensconced in my air-conditioned MP3-playing automobile. The only real plus for a car is that I can carry a log of stuff I probably do not need, and I've never stalled a car and had it fall over and needed to pick it up - which has happened with my motorcycles.
I think there'll be a motorcycle rant not too far in the future - as soon as mine gets out of the shop after being vandalized by s stupid homicide cop in the police garage.
Happy Friday, everyone!
Baltimore is reputed to be a tough commute, and it can get pretty ugly in the morning. I call ugly a morning when my 22-miles-of-freeway plus four traffic lights turns into an hour on my motorcycle or in my car. This morning was one of those mornings.
I've been driving for almost 50 years now, and have driven in Germany when there were no speed limits and survived, so I must've done something right. I have come to a few conclusions about just why traffic gets so sucky sometimes.
- People check their manners when they leave their homes - the trip turns into international screw-your-buddy week, and some seem to take great joy in making certain that nobody can change lanes or pass them - and if there's someone on a ramp, they can wait until their vehicle turns into iron oxide.
- Cell phones make everyone oblivious to the impolite folks that don't have cell phones, which in turns makes them even less polite and helpful.
- NOBODY knows how to use mirrors any more.
- NOBODY gives a ratzass about physics, reaction time, or the realities of modern brakes and tires, as good as they are, they still won't help when you run out of time.
- Cut me off whilst talking on a phone, not looking in a mirror; just moved over to where I was. Luckily I was paying attention - my polite horn beep was greeted by a upraised middle finger, which meant there were no hands on the wheel as the other hand was occupied holding a cell phone.
- Run down an on-ramp to the end, right past two others who purposely left a space large enough to fit three cars in safety - this arzl had to be FIRST and wasn't accepting largess on anyone's part. When he got to the end of his ramp, he bullied his way into the lane that was there and promptly bullied his way across another lane - because he was in an exit-only lane and he apparently didn't want to exit.
- Pull in front of a car carrier only to discover that everything was stopped in that lane - he was talking on his phone and it had missed his notice that he was moving bu8t where he was headed nothing was moving. Happily the car carrier wasn't going fast - but he flatspotted a bunch of tires getting stopped - and the jerk in the car flipped him off for the noise of tires sliding.
Particuklarly obnoxious folks drive jacked up pickups and expensive SUV's - they get right up close and personal, never even thinking of the danger in which they place me by being so close. I guess someone who has fewer than four wheels is classed as vermin by such drivers. I can always pour on the throttle and make some space since motorcycles do that better than most cars - but in traffix there's often no place to go. Sometimes I can pour on the power and the loud pipes will make them slow down, but not often - most folks are so insulated in their cage vehicles that they couldn't hear a freight train if it fell on them.
Courtesy is cheap, and simply by being courteous, ugly situations do not have the opportunity to form - and letting just one person in can change the whole day for that person. I wish that were better understood. Working for a police department, I see lots of accidents and reports thereof, and you'd be really surprised just how many accidents could have been caused not to happen with a little courtesy on someone's part - along with, of course, some awareness of what one is doing and where one is doing whatever it is.
I am occasionally tempted to carry a bag of large marbles to loft into the air when a following vehicle gets so close to my moorcycle that I feel endangered. Up to this point I haven't done this, but it gets more tempting every day. Even in the car I get tempted by this thought - particularly when the only thing I can see in any of my mirrors is a jacked up Dodge Ram pickup that looks like it is eating my trunk.
I wonder if I carried a bag of paintballs.... No, they probably need more force to burst than I could supply simply by throwwing one up into the air. Maybe a weed sprayer full of yellow paint? No, I don't think so - too hard on the environment.
I had a stock exhaust on my motorcycle for a while - I paid a bunch of money to buy it after buying the bike with Vance & Hines pipes on it. When I put the stock pipes on, it got quiet - and people stopped seeing me. I put the loud pipes back on and get menaced a whole lot less every day. I also have a nice lout air horn - when I blow it, folks pay attention, and by the time they fitgure out it is a biker and not a trucker, I am gone from that area.
I ride because I like to ride. My motorcycles use less gas than my cars (by half or more) and I know some guys that tell their wives that they want a motorcycle to save money, but I'm here to tell you that's crap. Riders have motorcycles because they want motorcycles - saving gas is a nice byproduct, but not the real reason to have one. If you don't ride, or if your only riding experience is as a fearful passenger being scared by some yahoo more interested in your fright than his safety, you are missing something - it is peaceful out there in no hurry wandering the counryside. Many of my favorite rides would average 40 mph or less - and I seem to see so much more than when in a car. I hear things I might not otherwise hear, smell new smells all the time, and see colors much brighter than when ensconced in my air-conditioned MP3-playing automobile. The only real plus for a car is that I can carry a log of stuff I probably do not need, and I've never stalled a car and had it fall over and needed to pick it up - which has happened with my motorcycles.
I think there'll be a motorcycle rant not too far in the future - as soon as mine gets out of the shop after being vandalized by s stupid homicide cop in the police garage.
Happy Friday, everyone!
Halloween
I got to work a few minutes early today, and while waiting for the elevator encountered a police sergeant.
Since I talk to everyone, I said something really clever, like "Howdy, Sarge!" as he walked by headed for the garage.
He responded "Howdy, and have a happy Halloween!" as he went out the door.
Just before the door closed, I heard him say "THIS year, I'm goin' as a cop!"
It's gotta be really great to have fun at work.
Since I talk to everyone, I said something really clever, like "Howdy, Sarge!" as he walked by headed for the garage.
He responded "Howdy, and have a happy Halloween!" as he went out the door.
Just before the door closed, I heard him say "THIS year, I'm goin' as a cop!"
It's gotta be really great to have fun at work.
Wednesday, October 29, 2008
HD TV
We bought one - it's wonderful.
But.
There's always a but, it seems...
I spent several hours yesterday with a VCR/DVD Writer trying to get a TV show onto a disk for a friend, first putting it on tape. The Sony device supposedly will dub tape to DVD (I bought it for that purpose - too much tape taking up space at our house, and DVD's are so much easier to store, not to mention easier to find...) and thought I'd just dump the show onto tape at first, just for drill.
I tried, I really did - and learned a lot.
Our HD TV has one set of outputs. It's 3 RCA plugs - that's right, stereo sound and composite video.
What I learned was that if you recorded it in HD, there's no way to make it come out of the composite jack and onto a VCR.
You get great sound, just no picture.
Tonight I'll mess with the other holes on it to see if it has a component-in on the deck - and if it does, maybe I'll try to send it that way from the cable box, since the TeeVee is on the HDMI.
I'm glad I didn't start out using the media center PC and a Dazzle capture box - I'd've got really ticked!
Ain't technology grand! But the really amazing part is that I am old enough to remember transistor radios being expensive and flaky. I have a couple of radios around the house that use tubes, and I have worked on computers that had tubes - and ever time I say something like that out loud some smartass will ask "What's a tube, Grandpa?"
But what I do for a living was not even good science fiction when I was about deciding to be if I ever grew up.
So I decided never to grow up. To hear my wife and kids tell it, I've been a resounding success.
But.
There's always a but, it seems...
I spent several hours yesterday with a VCR/DVD Writer trying to get a TV show onto a disk for a friend, first putting it on tape. The Sony device supposedly will dub tape to DVD (I bought it for that purpose - too much tape taking up space at our house, and DVD's are so much easier to store, not to mention easier to find...) and thought I'd just dump the show onto tape at first, just for drill.
I tried, I really did - and learned a lot.
Our HD TV has one set of outputs. It's 3 RCA plugs - that's right, stereo sound and composite video.
What I learned was that if you recorded it in HD, there's no way to make it come out of the composite jack and onto a VCR.
You get great sound, just no picture.
Tonight I'll mess with the other holes on it to see if it has a component-in on the deck - and if it does, maybe I'll try to send it that way from the cable box, since the TeeVee is on the HDMI.
I'm glad I didn't start out using the media center PC and a Dazzle capture box - I'd've got really ticked!
Ain't technology grand! But the really amazing part is that I am old enough to remember transistor radios being expensive and flaky. I have a couple of radios around the house that use tubes, and I have worked on computers that had tubes - and ever time I say something like that out loud some smartass will ask "What's a tube, Grandpa?"
But what I do for a living was not even good science fiction when I was about deciding to be if I ever grew up.
So I decided never to grow up. To hear my wife and kids tell it, I've been a resounding success.
Wednesday, all day long
Wednesday is Choir Rehearsal day.
When you marry a choir director, unless you're hopelessly tone-deaf, you get to be a member of the choir. Try it sometime - it can be fun - I enjoy it still, and choir rehearsal is on motorcycle club meeting night, so I only get to club meetings in the summer when there's no choir.
But music is important, singing can be fun, it helps your respiratory health and makes you feel better - and it is free; all it costs is a little time. There are some pretty neat folks in choirs all over the place.
I found a wife there, and she's put up with me for more than 40 years.
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
When you marry a choir director, unless you're hopelessly tone-deaf, you get to be a member of the choir. Try it sometime - it can be fun - I enjoy it still, and choir rehearsal is on motorcycle club meeting night, so I only get to club meetings in the summer when there's no choir.
But music is important, singing can be fun, it helps your respiratory health and makes you feel better - and it is free; all it costs is a little time. There are some pretty neat folks in choirs all over the place.
I found a wife there, and she's put up with me for more than 40 years.
Happy Wednesday, everyone.
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